


Survival Lessons

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to "Survival." Jim's learning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival Lessons

 

First published in  _Sentry Post 5_ (1999)

 

“I am not afraid. I am not afraid...”

Jim Ellison listened with amusement as his partner’s voice rose in pitch on each word. It didn’t take Sentinel hearing to catch the words coming from the rescue basket as the helicopter lifted higher and started moving out. The panicked words grew louder at the forward motion, a combination of the calming mantra that clearly wasn’t working and terrified pleas to be let down.

Jim’s smile faded a little.

There wasn’t any other way, of course. They were a day’s hike into the wilderness when Blair had been shot in the leg, on top of two previous nasty blows to the head. The kid needed medical attention soon, and there was just no other way to get him to it quickly and with a minimum of jostling, as to send him down the mountain with the helicopter. Or, more precisely, dangling by a rope from the helicopter. A fairly disconcerting way to travel even for someone comfortable with heights, let alone someone terrified of them.

The voice, faint now halfway across the valley even though he was still unconsciously tuned into it, suddenly fell silent. It was too far to listen for a heartbeat even for a sentinel, but suddenly Jim was decidedly uncomfortable. The kid had probably scared himself right into passing out.

Ellison frowned, starting to feel quite the heel. Despite their constant teasing back and forth, fun at the expense of his friend’s fear was low, even for him.

“Simon,” he called over his shoulder, beginning to move. “I’m going to catch a ride down, see about Sandburg.”

“All right, Jim. I’ll meet you down there.”

For all the captain’s ordeal, he’d recovered himself quickly and was already helping direct the clean-up. He had to be at least as tired as Jim was, but it didn’t show in his voice or activity as he made his rounds among the teams up there, overseeing evidence collection and prisoner--and dead body--removal. Jim gave a vague satisfied smile at the sound of his safe friend, then turned thoughts to his other friend, probably halfway to the hospital by now.

Finding a ranger willing to take him down proved to be no trouble at all; he was one of the heroes of the afternoon, an idea that caused him some chagrin but that he wasn’t above exploiting. Truth be told, he didn’t feel like a hero. Jim had gone into the mountains because he’d been worried about his friend, and he’d actually ended up the most unscathed of the three of them. Simon had a variety of bruises and abrasions that spoke of less-than-gentle treatment at Quinn’s hands, and Blair...

_Shot, for Pete’s sake. He’s just a kid, an_ observer. _Observers aren’t supposed to get shot in the line of duty--it’s not even_ his _duty._

Of course, there were all kinds of duty. Responsibility to friends was one even he couldn’t keep Blair from, or had a right to. Sandburg hadn’t gone with him in a police capacity, but for the same reason as Jim: for Simon.

The jeep bounced over the sloping trail, Ellison riding next to the ranger in silence. He felt every rock they rolled over as the bumps jounced his aching body, no doubt an unasked for bonus from his hyper sense of touch, but he hung on to the dashboard and door in grim thought. The road would definitely have been too much for the injured graduate student to be taken down that way, and yet the illogical nagging gnawed at Jim that he still should’ve found a way. The least he could have done was to sit for a moment with the kid and get him calmed down before the helicopter took off, maybe run through some of those damnable relaxation exercises with him. Blair had done as much for him when he’d faced the far less daunting task of a doctor’s visit, but with Sandburg flirting and talking up a streak, it had been easy to fall into their usual banter and baiting. And forget that only a few hours before, Blair had been injured and frightened out of his wits, then shot, and then smoked out. With the anthropologist’s ability to adapt and the way he took things in stride, it was sometimes easy to forget that he wasn’t a cop, wasn’t trained to be ready for any of this, and that being hunted and traumatized and hurt--several times--was bound to be a complete shock to his system. Then being tied down and suspended in air for a trip down the mountain.

Jim grimaced inside, rock-jawed on the outside. He felt guilty and he didn’t like the sensation one bit.

“Want me to drop you at the hospital?”

The ranger’s solicitous voice nearly went by his notice. “Yes, please,” he nodded stonily, still clinching the dash even as the trail met the road and the jiggling smoothed out. If the driver noticed, he didn’t let on.

“It’s still ‘bout 20 miles down the road here. Your prisoner knew what he was doin’ and picked a pretty out-of-the-way spot to make his move.”

Jim glared straight ahead. “He just picked the wrong hostage.”

The sandy-haired man threw him an admiring glance. “Or more like the wrong people to leave behind. That was some tracking job.” He shook his head. “That Mr. Sandburg, he a tracker or somethin’?”

“A guide,” Ellison answered with no little irony.

The ranger nodded. “Didn’t really look like it but I figured as much when they said you had an observer go up with you. No observer would be fool enough to go chasin’ after crazy killers in unfamiliar territory.”

“Probably,” was all he mildly allowed, but the ranger’s words made Jim want to smile. _Fool enough_ \--that would arouse Sandburg’s righteous indignation. But it had been crazy...and typical. It was a loyalty he hadn’t originally expected to find in the seemingly flighty kid, not with Blair’s non-traditional upbringing, and yet he’d seen it over and over again: Blair following him into the line of danger, going after Simon and Daryl in Peru, turning down his dream trip to Borneo. _Fool_ was one word for it.

_Friend_ was another.

Uncomfortable with that line of thought, Jim turned back to the ranger. “How much do you think the chopper beat us there by?” he called over the wind that whipped his words back to trail off the jeep behind them. At least they were going fast now.

“‘Bout a half-hour, I figure,” the other man shouted back. “Why, something they need to know about before?”

The hospital, Jim realized the ranger was referring to, but he was more worried about clarifying things with someone else. Besides, he’d talked to the medic riding in with Sandburg before the chopper took off; Blair’s records from Cascade would probably be waiting for him by the time he reached the hospital. Jim just shook his head.

The rest of the trip passed in lengthy silence. Jim tried to focus on making out the signs of the approaching town, but fatigue had dulled his mind and he began to notice the afternoon sun was too bright, the sounds of the jeep and the surrounding woods too grating, the smell of the dust and pines and forest animals overpowering. Yet what he wanted to concentrate on faded out of his field of sensation. It wasn’t the first time exhaustion had tampered with his control, but it did seem like the final straw to a whole camel-ful of them in the last 48 hours. And this time he had no guide to help him deal with it. Jim finally shut his eyes, turned everything down as low as he was able, and impatiently waited.

Too low, perhaps. Ellison suddenly realized that the jeep wasn’t moving anymore and the ranger had turned to face him, calling his name with increasing concern.

“Yeah, yeah, just...fell asleep for a minute.” He was already pulling himself together, avoiding the man’s look as he pried his fingers from the frame of the car and stiffly climbed out.

The ranger--he’d never even thought to ask the man’s name--pointed him in the right direction and said a restrained good-bye. Jim answered distractedly in kind and tried not to limp his way to the hospital doors. He kept in pretty good shape, but jumping off waterfalls and climbing mines and engaging in gun battles took their toll on him, too, not to mention a night without sleep. His original intention to trade off with Sandburg had died in the face of the kid’s exhaustion and terror.

_He’s not a cop. Sometimes you expect him to be when even a cop would have it rough, and other times you don’t give him credit when he really comes through. Make up your mind, Ellison._

Crises made him too reflective, Jim shook his head in disgust.

The hospital was a small community one, only one floor, and the receiving counter seemed to also be the nurses’ station. Ellison straightened as he reached it, managing a smile with some fraction of charm for the blonde young lady who sat behind the ledge.

She didn’t smile back, her brown eyes widening in concern instead. “Are you all right? Do you need some help, sir?”

It took a bewildered second to realize that after 24 trying hours in the wilderness, he probably didn’t look his best. He shook his head, smiling thinly again. “No, no, I’m fine. I wanted to know about my friend who was brought in by helicopter about a half-hour ago? Name’s--”

“--Blair Sandburg,” she replied immediately. A small hospital indeed. “Are you the policeman, Detective Ellison?”

“Uh...yeah,” he answered, swallowing his surprise. Apparently Sandburg had told them to expect him. Probably was hoping he’d take care of the paperwork, Jim thought wryly. “He told you I was--”

“Oh, no, Mr. Sandburg wasn’t conscious when he arrived. His records list you as his TBN and the paramedic said you’d probably be following him in.”

Jim waved a hand to slow her down, confused again. No doubt the lack of sleep. “Wait, wait. You said he was unconscious? But he was talking--yelling, in fact--when they took him away. His leg didn’t seem so bad.”

The girl dimpled at him. “Actually, I think Mr. Sandburg fainted. Air transport has that affect on some.” She grew serious. “They’ve taken him into surgery to work on his leg. If you’d care to sit down, Detective, the doctor can speak to you as soon as there’s any word.”

Jim was still trying to digest everything. He was the kid’s TBN--To Be Notified? That was one step away from Next Of Kin. He supposed that made sense, their being roommates and with Ellison’s job and all, but he hadn’t thought about it before. Jim had never been anyone’s TBN, not even Caroline’s. He’d learned that the hard way after she’d been in a minor accident, an unwelcome early sign of the way things were already between them. A sign he’d pretty much ignored, just as he usually did anything that threatened his way of life. Like an irrepressible anthropology student who presumed to list as him as TBN.

And who’d fainted? After the whole ordeal out on the mountain, the trip to the hospital had been the thing to finally do him in?

That stupid fear of heights. It was about as rational as...well, a fear of deep water. And as Jim recalled, Blair had been nothing but sympathetic about that little secret of his partner’s.

Jim made a face and went to sit down at where the young nurse had directed him. Guilt was having a field day with him and he hated that. _I’m just tired,_ he rubbed his jaw wearily. _Makin’ me sentimental._ That was probably Blair’s influence, too. Like the controls his Guide had taught him that seemed to be escaping him at the moment. Just as in the jeep, it seemed like every sound in the small hospital was pelting him, a meaningless hubbub he couldn’t sort out. The smells of antiseptic and illness threatened to gag him. _Maybe I should wait for word at the nearest motel._ As if that would solve anything. He had everything he needed there in that small building.

Jim sighed, focusing on forming dials from the tatters of his concentration, like some damnably complex jigsaw puzzle. He was still at it who-knew-how-much-later when a new voice boomed at him.

“Detective Ellison?”

The echoing loudness of the words made him wince and Jim urgently dampened that sense as much as he was able. He looked up at the man in the too-bright white coat who looked surprisingly a lot like Simon: tall, black, distinguished, with similar features and glasses. Ellison idly wondered if he smoked cigars. “Yes?” He stood tiredly.

The doctor smiled at him. “You may go see Mr. Sandburg now. We stitched up his leg under local anesthetic so he’s already awake and been told you’re here.”

“His leg--how is it?”

“Well,” the doctor frowned thoughtfully, “we see a lot of bullet wounds here from hunting accidents, but as far as this one goes it could have been much worse. Mostly muscle damage, which will leave him stiff and sore for a while but should be negligible with physical therapy. The blood loss was the most severe trauma, but we’ve replaced most of the blood volume. And the smoke damage and the injury from the blow he sustained to the head are minimal. I don’t see a need to keep him past tomorrow, although I wouldn’t advise his attempting a long car trip back home before the end of the week. He should keep that leg elevated and still for the next few days.”

Simon had come in near the end of the recitation but Jim had ignored him, listening silently, focusedly as he sorted the unimportant from the key. Blair was going to be fine and Jim could take him home shortly, was what it boiled down to. An odd feeling of lightening, different from all the releases of tension in catching Quinn, came upon him, leaving him with an almost joyful high. He nodded happily to the doctor, then grinned at Simon, who grinned back at him. With the revelation of Blair’s room number, a simple “18,” he left the captain talking to his double and went in search of his partner.

Room 18 was just down the hall, and he tapped experimentally at the heavy wooden door.

“Yeah, come in.”

Sandburg sounded even more tired than he felt, but Jim still found himself smiling at the familiar voice. He opened the door enough to peer in. “Hey, how you doin’?”

The kid had definitely looked better. Cleaned up, the pale skin only contrasted the bruises more noticeably, especially the ugly discolored one where Wade had hit him. Jim had seen it then even in the dark, of course, but in the stark indoor lighting it made him angry anew. The only other color in Blair’s face was the dark circles around still-dazed blue eyes. Sandburg half-sat in the bed, his bad leg bandaged and raised, the rest of him looking limp and drained of the usual energy that seemed to accompany him even in sleep. “Hey, man.” Blair’s voice nevertheless colored with pleasure at the sight of him, as did his face. “I’m okay; they’re not even keeping me past tomorrow.”

“Yeah, the doctor told me.” Ellison was inside all the way, stepping up to the bed with both relief and awkwardness. “I thought maybe we could get a room nearby for until the doctor says you’re ready to travel.”

Despite the fatigue that tried to dim them, the eyes brightened at the thought. Sometimes the kid reminded Jim of a puppy, surprised and delighted with any bone thrown his way. “That sounds great! But, uh, don’t they need you back in--”

“They’ll make do,” Jim said shortly. “I think we earned a break, don’t you?”

Sandburg grinned at him. “Yeah.”

Earned a break. That would be hard to do, considering Blair never owed them anything to begin with. The reminder of his earlier thoughts sobered Ellison. “Uh, how was the ride in?” he asked, carefully light.

The blue eyes went opaque, a far more serious sign than the elaborate shudder Sandburg gave. “Oh, man, that was not fun. Next time this happens, _I_ get to ride down in the jeep and _you_ can get tied up and fly around with only a rope keeping you from falling a _long_ way down. I don’t want to ever do that again, you hear me?”

“Got it,” Jim nodded, then unbent a little. “I’m sorry, Chief, I didn’t really think about how hard it would be for you to go down that way. You’ve been up in helicopters before and even parachuted with me once--”

“And scared myself to death each time,” Sandburg was shaking his head. He wasn’t usually so frank about his own fears to Jim, either, not in earnest, but the experience had clearly shaken some of his inhibitions off. “Uh-uh, flyings for the birds, literally. Too much space between me and the ground. If we were meant to fly, we’d have--”

“--aircraft engineers,” Jim provided. Even as he grinned, he put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Okay, no more jumping out of airplanes or hanging off helicopters.” His hand tightened without intent. “But then no more getting hurt, either.”

“I can live with that,” Sandburg said, more subdued. The fear had trickled out of his eyes somewhere in the middle of their banter, or maybe it had been when Jim’s hand had settled on him, but the sober wisdom that took its place was almost as disconcerting as Blair studied him. _Kid_ \--Jim used the term fondly, without thinking, until times like this when it struck him abruptly how old this “kid” was in many ways.

“Good. I intend to hold you to that,” he batted the anthropologist playfully, even if neither of them seemed to be kidding anymore. It wouldn’t do to disturb the status quo. But still... “You did good out there, Chief,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad you came.” The same words he’d said once in Peru, and they were just as much an understatement then. A little praise, measured sparingly at risk of inflating Sandburg’s considerable ego, wouldn’t kill him, especially when Blair had displayed more guts than most cops Jim had ever worked with. Reminded him in many ways of young Gil Brody in fact, but he’d be damned before he’d go as far as to admit that. Sandburg would be insufferable.

Right now, though, Blair simply looked happy, maybe even pleasantly surprised, and Ellison could live with that.

The door opened behind him. “Am I interrupting anything?” Simon stepped halfway inside.

Jim moved back to let Banks have his turn at the patient, sitting himself down comfortably in a nearby chair. Sandburg was growing tired, he could see it, and soon would chase the captain out of there if he had to, but Blair was contented now, touched by Simon’s gruff thanks, embarrassed at the praise and quick to defend himself against the teasing, and for the moment Ellison was satisfied just to watch. It occurred to him for the first time, too, that ever since he’d entered the room, his senses had settled into their usual “aware, but under control” mode, as if the stress and fatigue had no effect on them any longer. Jim narrowed his eyes at the animated anthropologist in the bed a few steps away. It had to be the allaying of his natural concern for Sandburg, nothing more, that had settled him down. Surely it wasn’t anything as illogical as simple proximity to his Guide...

Blair turned to briefly glance at him, eyes too knowing, before returning to his defensive protestations of something Simon had said. Jim suddenly got the uncomfortable feeling the younger man had known what he was thinking...

_Nah._

But maybe Jim would think twice before he’d make fun of Sandburg next time. Partners with loyalty and courage like that were hard to find. Then again, he had a feeling Sandburg already knew how he felt, and being that transparent bothered him a lot less than it would have even a year before.

Blair and Simon argued on with great relish, growing more vocal by the minute.

His world safe and in order once more, Ellison sat back to enjoy it.

The End


End file.
